Chapter Three-Mistake
"Come on Cassie."
I didn't move.
"Cassie, come on."
I pretended I hadn't heard her.
"Cassie, seriously, you have to move."
I remained as I was. Feet planted firmly, arms crossed, staring blankly out into the dessert. I chanced a look at Liss out of the corner of my eye. She was frustrated, but trying not to show it. I tried to care, but I didn't. She obviously didn't know what I was going through. Today might very well be the last time I look out at the rising sun over the dessert. It's the most beautiful thing in the world, and I might never see it again. It's a strange concept to me.
My inner musings were interrupted(very rudely I might add) by Liss, who chose that moment to launch herself upon me in an effort to shake me from my reflection. We tumbled to the ground in a tangle of Liss' golden curls. I got a mouthful of hair, and she got a mouthful of dirt. Fair trade I guess.
"Uhh, Cassie," she groaned, sitting up and spitting out as much dist as she can, "Why do you always do this?"
"Always do what?" I snapped, just as irritably, standing and brushing off the front of my dress.
"This," she gestured to me, standing as well, "This whole miserable, miss- understood thing. It's kind of pissing me off." She spat out impressive dirt colored lougie.
"Well forgive me if I'm not exactly singing show tunes. We can't all be as chipper as you when faced with our impending deaths." I sneered as I turned away from her and began walking towards town.
"You're so negative Cassie." She huffed as she struggled to catch up. Struggled because one of my steps was twice as long as one of hers and her head could just barley clear my shoulder.
"The likely hood of you getting chosen is slim to none you know." She said when she had caught up.
I responded with a grunt.
"No it's true!" she exclaimed, interpreting my grunt as decent. "Think about it, this is you last reaping, you don't have any brothers or sisters, so you only had to sign up for the tresserae once, and there are more girls then boys in the District anyway."
"Only twenty more."
"Yeah, but that's not my point. What I'm trying to say is that you slips are three in hundreds-you'll be fine."
And even though I couldn't stand the girl, I had to admit that her words made me feel a little better.
We rounded the corner and entered the town. Well, not so much a town as a clump of ill made wooden shacks in the center of what was considered District Nine. Most of our population lived here being as it was the entrance to the factories and, in the dessert there was safety in numbers. Those who ventured more then ten miles away from the town were taking a huge risk, not only with their lives, but with their families as well. Most were not foolish enough to attempt it, but there were always a few. And those were the few that were usually dragged back moths later on the Peacekeepers wagons, dead from starvation, dehydration, snakebites or disease. Bottom Line-if you wanted to die, leaving town was a sure way to do it.
When we reached the town square, people were already milling about. The stage was already set up at the steps of the Justice Building and two Peacekeepers were attempting to hook up the microphone to the electric cables that ran inside the building. Only the Justice Building had electricity in Distinct Nine. There was no need to set up fences because there was no where for anyone to go and we had twice the number of Peacekeepers a population of our size required. Electricity was something I had only ever read about in school, it was not a reality for me, and hopefully it never would be.
My parents and Mr. and Mrs. Novel had left before we had, and were now standing on the right side of the Justice building next to the stage. My mother looked as though she had been crying, and, in response, my stomach began to knot, as it did every time my mother was upset. Mr. and Mrs. Novel had their young son Andrew with them. He was maybe eight now, and he looked exactly like a younger, boy Liss. He smiled and waved at us, beckoning us over.
Liss immediately complied to his silent request, leaving my side at once and skipping across the square to join her family. But I hesitated. It wasn't that I didn't love my parents, but every reaping day I was hesitant to spend time with them, because I knew there was a chance that my name could come out of that reaping ball. Plus, I couldn't handle my mother's tears.
Luckily I was spared from having to make a decision, because Dahlia choose that moment to materialize at my side.
"Hey." I smiled, turning to face her.
It took a lot of effort to keep that smile on my face as I took her appearance in. I knew she and her family were struggling, in fact I had shared my lunch with her at school every day after her father passed. But Dahlia had disappeared from school a few weeks before. It was not until I went to her house looking for her that I had discovered where she went. Dahlia had gone under, taking the substantial bonus the District paid to anyone willing to go into the factories before they were eighteen.
Though it may have saved her family from starvation, it hadn't benefited Dahlia any. She looked horrible. Her once tanned skin had turned an ugly shade of greenish gray and hung off of her frail frame. Her eyes were sunken in, her dark hair was matted and her once round and expressive face had taken on a hardened appearance. She looked as if she hadn't eaten, let alone slept, in days.
Her eyes met mine for a moment, before quickly shooting to the ground and, impossibly, her expression hardened further.
"I don't want your pity." She muttered, still staring determinedly at the ground.
"Who said I had any to give?" I replied mildly, forcing myself not to stare at her emaciated face for too long, "I'm wallowing in an abundance of self pity at the moment and I just don't think I have any left to spread around."
Her expression softened into what I guessed what was supposed to be surprise, but before she could speak I cut her off, "I don't care Doll, it's your decision, your life, but I'm here if you need me."
Her face relaxed and she smiled. Well I guessed it was a smile.
"Oh there you are!"
I knew the voice well, and wasn't surprised to see Dahlia's face completely shut down. We stayed standing where we were however, and were quickly surrounded by what seemed to be a small village of giggling, squirming midgets and their exhausted looking herder.
"Dahlia darling where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you." Dahlia's mother exclaimed, picking up Dahlia's four year old brother Daniel and holding him tight to her chest.
She seemed completely oblivious to her eldest daughter's appearance, or she just didn't care. Either way, she didn't mention it or even appear to be apologetic in any way. As I looked at the unusually tall woman, who, up till now, I'd liked, I couldn't help but wonder at her complete lack of empathy. What mother would allow her own daughter to take her place in the factories? It wasn't like the conditions down there were a secret. Everyone knew how horrible it was, and yet she had thrown her own daughter to the preverbal wolves.
"I'm fine mother, how are you?" Dahlia responded quietly.
Her mother began to ramble about inconsequential things, and Dahlia "Mmm-humph"ed and nodded at the appropriate times. As I watched them, I couldn't help but marvel at my friend. Did she hate her mother? Or did she simply feel nothing all for the woman who was supposed to protect her from anything and everything. Or did she still, after everything, love her? It was impossible for me to say.
My eyes were drawn away from Dahlia and her mother and to Dahlia's siblings. Daniel was still in his mother's arms, playing with her hair. Caroline and Peter, nine and six respectively, were engaged in a particularly intense game of tag. As I watched them, I was filled with a familiar sense of longing. As a child I had always wished for siblings, other kids with whom I could play and talk to on a regular basis. But as my eyes found Norma who looked clean and pretty, if stoic, I was reminded why that was not a good thing. Today was Norma's very first reaping, and, because she had taken the tresserae for all of her siblings not including Dahlia, the odds were not in her favor. I knew that I she was chosen it would be unbearable for me to watch, and if it would be unbearable for me, I could only imagine what it would be like for her siblings.
Peacekeepers suddenly flooded the square-a signal for everyone to take their places. Dahlia and I were herded to the back of the girl's pen, where we were soon joined by Liss. I couldn't find my parents in the crowd, and, even as I searched, I knew I didn't want to. It was silent as Mayor Pulvaris ascends the stage. It was silent as he began the Treaty of Treason. It was silent as he paused before announcing District Nine's escort, a tiny squeaky woman by the name of Ramona Honeyworth.
Silence is a special talent of the people of District Nine. On reaping day you could literally hear a pin drop. It sounds as though the crowed isn't breathing, and everyone is nearly perfectly still. Ramona used to be offended by our silence, thinking that we were being to uptight about sending our children off to inevitable slaughter. In fact she used to complain about it every year. But it's been years and she's long since given up on us, declaring District Nine the most boring District EVER…well besides Twelve.
As she thanked the mayor and ascended the stage, my eyes were drawn to a small man standing at the foot of the stair to the platform. He was slight, about forty, and stood just out of view form the majority of the crowed, head bowed, shoulders slumped. I watched him, fascinated, for I knew that I was looking at Elder Quinn, winner of the forth annual Hunger Games and District Nine's only champion. He was rarely seen in Nine except at reaping times, and I had never heard him speak. I couldn't imagine how difficult in must have been for him, to watch his districts tributes be slaughtered year after year after he came to know them, mentored them and pinned all his faith on them. I shook my head, no, I couldn't imagine.
Ramona reached the podium and seized the microphone with unusual enthusiasm, her three inch long nails clicking annoyingly against the plastic. Maybe she was up for a promotion, I mused.
"Hello District Nine!" she squealed into the mic, her voice reaching a pitch previously unknown to man. "Welcome tributes to the Thirtieth Annual Hunger Games!"
She paused, as though expecting the wild cheer escorts were greeted by in Districts like One, Two, and Four, but was met with, as usual, silence.
"Well…okay." She sniffed, flicking her short blonde bob behind her ear, "Let the Reaping's begin, and," she paused again to wink at all the tributes, "May the odds be ever in your favor!"
She grinned out into the audience, appearing to expect a laugh. Again, nothing but a slightly colder silence as the people of District Nine stared at her blankly.
"Right. Well, let's get on with it then, " Ramona giggled, swallowing nervously, "Gentleman first this time!"
She skipped to the boy's glass ball, thrusting her hand in and pulling a single slip of white paper.
"Nathan Pipe?"
Nothing. Nobody moved to take the stage.
Ramona tried again, "Nathan Pipe?"
And still nobody stepped forward.
As Ramona was about to call out the name for the third time, a boy stumbled out of the crowed of fourteens, having been pushed by one of his fellows. His face was already wet with tears and he visibly trembled as he ascended the stairs, ugly sobs catching in his throat. He needed to stop that, one look and I could already tell he was an easy kill, and I wasn't even a Career.
When he reached the stage, Ramona asked for volunteers, and, once again, was met with silence. The boy –Nathan- had briefly looked up, hoping for someone to be brave enough to replace him, but just as quickly he lowered his head, realizing that it was in vain. We were tightly knit in Nine, but not that tightly knit.
"Poor Nathan." Liss whispered, tears in her eyes, reaching out to grab my hand, as though for support. I let her, because I too felt pity for the crying boy on the stage.
Ramona cleared her throat trying, no doubt, to draw attention away from the distressed boy, aware of how pathetic she would look in the Capital.
"All right then, Ladies-your up!" she cheered, and stuck her hand into the girl's jar coming up with an identical slip of white paper.
"Cassandra Ellis!"
Everything grinds to a halt. It's blurry, so blurry, yet how can everything be so still at the same time? My mother's blood curtailing shrieks filled my ears, and Liss's hold on my arm had constricted, becoming painfully tight. I shook free of her and stepped forward, because, really, what more was there to do at that point?
I tried to feel my face as I walk up the steps to the stage, to sense what kind of image I was portraying to the audience. But I felt nothing. All I knew was that my features were frozen, though in what expression I could not tell.
As I reached my place beside the crying boy, Ramona began saying something to the audience, having to work to be heard over my mother's screams. I didn't try to find them in the crowned; sure I would come apart if my eyes met my father's. Instead I look out across the silent masses. They stared back at me with no emotion. Scratch that. Liss had tears in her eyes and Dahlia was openly crying, but everyone else looked at me, the newest victim of the Games, with nothing in their eyes but resignation. I knew all of them, many since I was a young child, and they had already given up on me, they had already let me go. And as I looked out across the dessert, out over the hills which my mother's screams echoed off of, I knew that there was absolutely no hope. I was going to die. But I was at least going to give them all a good show.
Please review-any tips would be welcome!